


Contact

by RAW_SYNTH3TICA



Category: Interstellar (2014)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Awkward Conversations, Awkward First Times, Awkward Sexual Situations, Awkwardness, Confusing, Explicit Sexual Content, Friendship/Love, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Male Slash, Science Fiction, Sex, Sexual Content, What Have I Done, What Was I Thinking?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 05:29:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3163028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RAW_SYNTH3TICA/pseuds/RAW_SYNTH3TICA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doyle is feeling homesick but doesn't know.</p><p>After stumbling/tripping my way through the cinema & probably getting the Gist of this film...i'm So confused with what's going on that it just Had to come out - this fic is the child of stress, caffeine, & my numb foot with which i used to kick myself in the ass</p>
            </blockquote>





	Contact

**Author's Note:**

> ALL FICTIONAL & NOT MINE
> 
> please excuse the weirdness, i typed this in my car on my way to work - while my brother drove, OK? :P

Suffering from the dull ship's light and sharp silence gradually punching holes into his unoccupied eardrums, Doyle lounged atop his cryogenic-chamber, the waist-high still-open rectangular compartment stood unlocked and empty, teeth steadily nibbling inner lip, he brushed a hand through his thick beard, imaging a setting sun beyond the Endurance's window – because it gave him a sense of normality, of conformity and the tightly-held intimacy of a home he was feeling as if he had lost touch with. There was no ache or twinge in his body, everything was immaculate and technologically Fine in terms of the crew's health, the soundness of the Endurance, their perfectly-packed supplies, the order of their mission – absolutely Nothing was amiss, except the gravity that could make him feel his own one-hundred-and-twenty pound mass, he was already sick of the artificial gravity and simulated oxygen he breathed, the silence was using his brain as a race-track for nerve-slicing razors and a sentience-punching needle derby. The order and flawlessness of their itinerary was like a high-pitched whistle screaming behind his eyelids, the deafening glittering gray stillness screamed and drowned out the bubble-rush noise of his heartbeat, so terribly was he spinning into a nauseatingly spiritless oblivion that his thoughts sounded like the endless drone of white noise imitating both an old man's warbling speech during a physics course and a shrill screech on NASA's directive from their radio. 

Both of their robotic assistants TARS and CASE were piloting Endurance, Doyle decided against asking aid from the two of helping along his insomnia, they would both weigh down his light sleep with sarcasm and USMC-brand 'humor', the last thing he needed was a pair of robotic drill-sergeants telling him a bedtime story or an overview of quantum physics and the importance of simulated sleep. Slowly, as if he were caught in a lucid dream, Doyle had felt at first a pull as if he had a magnet in his hand, then the sensation became stronger like his entire body was mimicking the magnet in its pull toward another like-force, the memory of their like-bodied phenomena coming together was as if every nerve in his body was covered by a second layer of sensory, the heaviness of the simulated gravity suddenly quadrupling and each color his brain perceived seemed to breathe. The ship itself thrummed with life as did each rumbling push of oxygen his lungs inhaled and expelled into a faint mist, the air was divided into spheres and the spaces between the spheres were of dull white-light, like diamonds encrusting a light bulb, they flickered and quivered with each breath taken. In awe of the sight, he reached the dim corner of the ship offside of his cryogenic-chamber and ran his fingers through the disturbance between light and physicality warping the light – Just on the edge of realizing What was keeping him awake, he lost the thought, it was Right There in front of his face, he Saw it, it Touched his mind and suddenly, it disappeared. 

He had been awake for an hour pushing unto six, and still giving in to resting his chaotic brain and fatigued body evaded him, the cusp of slumber was overshadowed by a doubt that maybe – just Maybe – they were missing something important, that they had miscalculated their mission, that they had overlooked One small possibly Insignificant detail. Reaching with his petrified arms and searching with his dull-sensed eyes for the phenomena which had just visited, he stumbled, landing face down straight on the first locked-in cryo-chamber, he felt like he was kicked in both kidneys with a boot, never more was there an inappropriate time in space that he could claim being hard beyond normal control, Doyle shivered atop the cryo-chamber which was right below his prone self. Just beneath him was the sleeping Cooper, he liked Cooper, the veteran pilot was the only reason why he joined NASA, but never thought twice or entertained the notion that he would ever share a mission alongside his inspiration, the realization was slightly unsettling as he pressed his hips unto the white aluminum enclosure, the lack of windows prompted the use of his imagination as limited as it was being that they were adrift and spinning without an orbit, they were locked inside the Endurance with little inspiration for musings beyond numbers, equations, theories, facts, the tightly-meshed and layered tiers of experience versus the lack of knowledge. 

Once more the beeping inside his ears resumed, the sound bleeding steadily back into reality, yet he foregone all logic in order to experience that Instant of enlightenment before his mind interrupted by rudely exclaiming 'Anomaly! Data! Quick!' and too easily had he been sidetracked by the itch to pull out a camera or a note pad, suddenly, the air melted through his throat like cooling wax and coated his lungs with an unfathomable heaviness only experienced near Jupiter's surface. The ultimate sensation of absolute desolation overtook him, having no other face to watch break into expression, no other voice but the ceaseless propeller-like whir scrambling his thought process, the silence was wringing him of his strength, sapping his will, it pecked away at his cerebral sectors the same way a single pickax disturbs the bottom of a mountain, thusly wearing away at the base before felling the entire landscape built atop the peak. Deep inside his brain, everything was shifting, moving, tearing, breaking, whispering, hushing, flying, falling, crumbling, drowning, dying...

“Doyle?” 

He looked up at the source of the needle which bore through him and shattered the soundless peace of the Endurance, he came shifted about in the cryogenic-fluids atop a set of hips, the tough vinyl covering was unzipped and opened, revealing the owner of the chamber he sat atop: Cooper brushed a hand through his hair and asked, “Hey, what's wrong, Doyle?” 

“The ship,” Doyle answered pathetically, motioning to the entire hull gently pulsing a dull light in order to conserve power, he could think nothing of his position atop his crewmate. 

Cooper glanced around, he looked for anything which would suspiciously set off the astronauts, yet was compelled to ask, “Are you alright? You should have been in cryostasis hours ago, man.” 

“It felt like days, Cooper,” Doyle answered, he again jumped at the sound of the piercing shatter bouncing around in his head, terror-stricken, he whispered in a panic, “Can you hear it?” 

“Oh,” came Cooper's answer, he wrapped an arm loosely around Doyle's body, pulling their forms closer until he pressed his ear right next to the other astronaut's, trying to gain a small acoustic , “What do you think it is?” 

“Who knows,” Doyle said, his hands instinctively grabbed at the back of Cooper's soaked t-shirt, his eyes darting around the dimly-lit hull as the blunt sound marched closer, the pitch dulling as its volume increased, almost overtaking the shrill beep of the EKG machines, he whispered urgently, “It's getting louder.” 

“I think I might have an idea of what it is,” Cooper sat up straighter before cupping his callused palms around Doyle's ears, somewhere from beneath, Doyle at first discovered a low rumble which boomed and crashed like a slowly-toppling skyscraper, down to bricks scraping and falling away as if the collapsing building was him, he heard the cracking of the windows, the steady groan of pipes and plumbing as they bent to their breaking point, the dull trickle of water from the shredded pipes splashing unto the carpeted floor, fibers and floorboards tearing until only acrylic threads and nails connected each to their former place. 

“It's me,” Doyle gasped against Cooper's neck, the rhythm of the crashing slowed, he imagined the empty skyscraper slowly rot away from the inside out instead of suddenly crashing to the ground as it had seemed to be doing only seconds ago, the imagery of the collapsing wreckage subsided, replaced by the visualization of droplets falling two at a time and creating ripples unto infinity, “It's my heartbeat.” 

“Just goes to show we're all human on the inside,” Cooper answered, he slowly let his hands off Doyle's ears, allowing the other astronaut to get used to the advanced acoustics of Endurance's hull, all sound was muffled but others that were lower and deeper seemed as if to resound endlessly, once solving Doyle's problem, he pulled back and asked, “Why aren't you asleep? It's nearly been five hours already.” 

“Insomnia,” Doyle shrugged listlessly, he bit his tongue as he admitted awkwardly, “And the fact that I hate the thought of not breathing during cryostasis.” 

Cooper nodded in agreement, knowing that his own children had the same fear of losing their breath, he glanced down and chuckled, “What about your...-” 

“Holy shit!” Doyle shouted in realization, he nearly jumped off Cooper's lap at the sight of his stretched-out sweatpants sporting a protrusion which pointed straight at Cooper's navel, he pulled the hem of his shirt down in attempt at hiding the thick white beads leaking steadily from the tip of his cock, he stammered, “I-I don't know why I have a-!” 

“Boner?” Cooper smirked, only for the fact that Doyle was so flustered by sporting a fully-erect cock and feeling it twitch against his abdomen, he ruffled the astronaut's hair, “You really are a strange one, Doyle.” 

“Well,” Cooper stared into Doyle's frustrated blue eyes and nodded downward in a coy gesture, enjoying the discomfort Doyle was going through as they sat eye to eye, “C'mon, show me. We're all men here.” 

Sensing trepidation, Cooper pulled away slightly and put his right palm over the back of Doyle's neck, giving a slight shake to jar the other man from bashfulness, he licked his lips as he gently prodded Doyle, “Its okay. I would've left you alone if I minded, Doyle.” 

Slightly eased, Doyle took a breath as he pulled up the dark hem of his shirt, exposing the protuberance twitching and throbbing hotly beneath Cooper's observance; he could have excused himself, he could have simply got off the raised cryo-chamber and never spoke of their strange encounter for as long as they worked the same ship, yet the nonjudgmental way Cooper pressed the flat thumb over his precum and spread the sticky fluid, he chose their weird little position over a comfortably listless existence within Endurance. Slowly, he gulped as Cooper hooked his callused fingers into the band of his sweats, gently peeling away the sopped cotton over his hipbones, he gripped the soaked t-shirt just above his expanding and compressing ribcage in his shaking hands and bit the edge of his lip, Cooper’s eyes had a sensation all its own: like a breath ghosting down and brushing the tiny hairs on his skin where ever the blue eyes glanced. Again, he felt that Same peculiar presence, the strange humming in his head returned, it thrummed behind him, but no longer was he dictated by rationality that what he heard just below his ear was merely his thudding heartbeat – it was…

“Uncircumcised?” Cooper chuckled, taking his uncut cock in hand and peeling the foreskin back with a hooked index finger and brushing the exposed glans with the rough print of thumb, a shock rumbled through him, adding a sense of their nearness the more he took breaths of the crystal-like air floating about their bodies, circulating them, his abdomen clenched as Cooper’s fingernail swept the hairless skin around his cock and navel, “Funny that you're shaved down here.” 

“Mm-hm!” Doyle only gasped, nodding against the pale fluorescence lighting dim shadows across their joined forms, Cooper seemed unaware of the Thing manipulating light and objects behind his upright body, he was afraid and in amazement as it floated seemingly listlessly, simply witnessing and possibly observing, like the way TARS or CASE would analyze each passenger of the Endurance, caught in revere and possibly in the slightest distracted, the next sensation made him throw his head back and release a liquid projection-like moan, “Cooper!” 

His blurry perception of Cooper was like ice and frost glazed over his eyelids as a ray of sunlight hit, which dried his mouth and made his thighs quake as if he stood on unsteady ground with bones made of lead: Cooper’s dark blonde hair stuck in strands against his clavicle while the visible tongue licked and lightly bit at his nipple, all the while a pair of blue eyes stared from beneath tanned eyelids, Doyle tore his own shirt off and threw the damp cloth in a corner, shakily slapping his grip on Cooper’s knee and the other over his own mouth, pain burst on his chest as Cooper took a hand away from his throbbing cockhead, he pulled Doyle’s hand from his shut mouth and asked, “Whose gonna hear us?” 

He at first thought of their crew, but just then remember their cycle in cryogenic sleep, he voice being nothing more than a nervous musician’s lips coaxing a whistle from a wind wood, “TARS and CASE.” 

“Luckily,” Cooper pushed two slick fingers between his cheeks, simply working in tiny circles over the squeezed-tight rim of his ass, teasing strokes left wet trails over his perineum and misting the next uttered words against his face, “ ‘Discretion’ is their function.” 

The world about them slowly unthreaded, unraveled, and broke away piece by piece in the decay of time; Cooper reached his bulky gloved hand over Doyle’s hair, the ghost of strands tickling beneath his fingers before he pulled away, leaving himself and Doyle within the dead-quiet hull of the Endurance, he left a tiny transmission for himself before parting ways and floating along the wormhole where he hoped that he would inspire a better world, a safer future for all mankind. 

Doyle gasped Cooper’s name, his body coiled around Cooper’s cock, the sudden explosion of sensation threw him forward though they were at a standstill, taking in each other’s sounds and bursts of movement: first, his vision swam and ignited with bright flares of color and uneven shapes, next, came the mixture of scents ranging from warm and musky to elusive and pungent, after, his skin thrummed as if it had a life all its own and squirmed over the tips of his nerves, suddenly, up from his core just below his tailbone thundered the most exquisite pain, which melted and doused his spine wave after wave with a flood of mind-shattering ecstasy. The grunts echoing along with his own halting keening filled between the alive-oxygen, shattering atmosphere as it came within range, neither cared of all the noise they made, the cryogenic fluid thawed beneath Cooper’s legs rippled until even sounds of the others’ elevated heartbeats came crashing as if it were a city due for demolition, he closed his eyes and sensed the movement paired with the seemingly sonar-like perception which intensified. Gritting his teeth and riding out the hot-cold throbs beneath his skin, he felt Cooper grab his hips and slam inward, his insides erupting with a rain of tingles, warm coils of pulsing shocks like dancing pinpricks inside his body, he briefly wondered if this moment could last forever, if sex could be so much more than the movement of their bodies. 

“Breathe, Doyle-” Cooper huffed against his ear, causing the hot sweat on Doyle’s face to cool against his warm skin, adding to the utter strangeness of the sensations, his fingers raked through the back of Cooper’s neck, the short hairs pressing along the inner webbing between his fingers, he instantly found himself no longer able to hold off, the oncoming gush pushing forwards against his sacs felt again like a kick to the kidneys, yet the aftertaste of the feeling was a sense of ultimate finality, he held his breath all the while so that he could experience the peculiar new ways his body became a prey of the backwards-seeming assault, “Breathe!” 

Doyle gasped, the rush of oxygen in his lungs making his head spin, he curled himself against Cooper, unwilling to let the fading sensations leave him – watching the air hold a flatness which came standard in all aircrafts, the light itself faded from the dazzling strobe of a prismatic kaleidoscope of color and particles of stray ions, everything became less splendid and wondrous. There simply existed an empty hull complete with pumping oxygen and simulated gravity, a dim glow of light lay more like another shade of white over the already-white flooring and pallid walls, for a moment in time, Doyle felt as if he had made a significant discovery, one which would rewrite history so to speak. He shut his eyes against the ugly surroundings and missed the beauty which was once their reality, the disappointment knocking inside his head was of the memory and the realization that the phenomena that had Just happened was in fact a Tangible occurrence, it was too vivid and mind-jarring to have been made up simply, the complexity of textures, sounds, smells and hues paired with the physicality of the transpiring events was too blatant, unreal as it seemed, his memory served well recalling the incident. 

Further still, Cooper and himself were still connected, unmoving but still as one they sat, Cooper peered at him, his voice gravelly and thick, “Are you looking for someone else, Doyle?” 

“Cooper-” Doyle found his tone off, it sounded nonexistent and hardly believable that he made such an unpleasant vocal ‘noise’, “Didn’t you feel that?” 

“Orgasm or boredom?” Cooper asked, he shook his head in attempt to dislodge the hard grip Doyle had in his hair, and instead heard a quiet ‘sorry’, “Well, this wasn’t Bad per se.” 

“It was fucking horrible,” Doyle answered, their positions still facing one another as he unlocked his legs from Cooper’s waist, “This was a waste of time.” 

“Think what you want, Doyle, but as far as I can tell-” Cooper reached between their bodies and showed his cum-glazed hand to Doyle, the thick stickiness dripping heavily into the cryogenic fluid, he stated, “-You were the only one orgasming the entire time.” 

“I can’t believe it,” Doyle sighed emphatically, he moved only slightly before experiencing a spark climbing up his spine, he experimentally pulled slightly and again, a much brighter pinprick of heat washed him in pleasure. 

Understanding the cause, he curled his fingers around Cooper’s shoulders and pushed him down atop the cryogenic-chamber, desperate for the lingering aftershocks of sensations, Doyle pushed himself from Cooper’s hips and squeezed down on the cock throbbing inside his body, the head stroking his core over and over as the hull’s oxygen thickened, the crawling twist of cold warmth melted along his spine, pouring from his core unto the top of his head, his muscles clenched down on the thickness jutting between his thighs. He descended unto Cooper, laying one arm beneath Cooper’s head and the other on his thick bicep, he moaned into the misted vinyl covering and continued to throw his hips down and buck upwards along the smooth cock until the head nuzzled against his clamped opening, he slapped his hips back down over Cooper’s waist, collecting the sensations one by one as light melted into smell and texture mingled with touch. He gasped as Cooper’s hand clasped his asscheek as the other squeezed between their bodies and wrapped around his own hardness, the simplicity of sex had never once manifested as it did just then, and too soon before he could understand the mechanics, Doyle spurted on Cooper and in turn his partner released a choked grunt, a warm wetness leaked out from between their bodies. 

They silently stood up and went their separate ways washing themselves of each other’s memory, Doyle came to his chamber first and slid into the lapping cryogenic-fluids, he nearly jumped from his chamber as Cooper slid in next to him and smiled, “We’re sharing chambers since mine is completely screwed to hell. Would you mind?” 

“I’m sorry about…” aside the peculiarity of sharing a cryo-chamber, Doyle was moreover occupied by calling Cooper ‘a waste of time’ and ‘horrible’, at the time he was referring to Trying to figure out the anomaly which kept interrupting and bringing along astonishing new sensations, “I didn’t mean to…” 

Cooper caught him, laying his lips over Doyle’s their tongues lapping merely with their tips, what Doyle tasted was a promise of ‘maybe’ their world could be possibly better than Earth or even have a chance of saving Earth, Cooper entered the hibernation-sequence as slowly, gently, gradually, as a peaceful nap, once more their surroundings melted away revealing an endless shallow sea where they sat watching the moon rise in a starless sky. 

\---

Once landing on Miller’s Planet, Cooper pulled Doyle aside before himself and Amelia disembarked, his voice stern with the no-fuss tone, “Stay.”

**Author's Note:**

> The first version was a hurt/comfort until too many interruptions & a pissed off laptop gave me the finger after shitting on the 1800 word version
> 
> i don't like Amelia Brand at all XP that much is clear


End file.
